


Half-Grown

by Skittles the Sugar Fairy (SkittlesFairy)



Category: Planes (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:57:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9612848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkittlesFairy/pseuds/Skittles%20the%20Sugar%20Fairy
Summary: Dusty was used to things not going his way, it was the story of his whole life basically. So the fact that something else had gone wrong wasn't surprising, the fact that it hadn't even waited for the dust to settle from his crash was. Unfortunately this current issue couldn't be dealt with in the usual 'ignore it and it will go away' manner and he'll have to finally face a problem completely head on.





	

**Author's Note:**

> *Edit* Did some minor clean up on spelling errors and tried to smooth some of the story out a bit.

"It's up to him now," Maru murmured to Blade as he cleaned up the last little bit of his shop that had suffered in the desperate attempt to stabilize Dusty.  
  
"What do you mean? You said he was fixed." Blade had been touchier than usual in the last four days of waiting for the repairs to take while he tried to coordinate with the other counties that had lent enough people to contain and control the fire that had destroyed so much of Piston Peak.  
  
Frowning around his coffee cup the tug rolled out of his garage, giving Dipper a little leer. If he had to repair her for hovering like that for so long he was going to lay into her as loudly as he could. He waited until they were out of hearing range before he finally answered. "Look Blade, from what you told me he knew his gearbox was toast when he went down. And from what his mechanic in Propwash said, racing was his everything not to mention... Well, you air types are all the same. No offense, but not too many of you do ok with not being able to fly. His last thoughts were likely that he was never going to fly again, never mind race, even if he did survive." The words left a bad taste in his mouth and he took a deep draw from his coffee to try and get rid of it.  
  
"But you were able to repair it, right?" The red and white helicopter rolled along, glancing back at the garage where Dipper watched the little S.E.A.T. with worried, tired eyes.  
  
"Repair it? Are you kidding me? There wasn't enough left of it for a repair. I had to rebuild what was left and fabricate the rest! He's lucky I'm so good." It wasn't bragging, it was a simple truth that Maru was just very, very good at what he did. "But he'll fly. Maybe better than before, or at least for longer, I used better materials than what his original was. If that was even his original."  
  
The way that was said made Blade frown even deeper. "What do you mean by that?" He was too worn for any sort of nonsense from his friend, but he wouldn't dangle something like that if there wasn't something he wanted to know.  
  
"That kid... According to Dipper, he's got a heck of a story, that big race he won? He apparently got wrecked pretty solidly, wasn't supposed to be able to finish, needed too many parts that he couldn't afford to replace, and certainly not out of country. He has the wings from a Lockheed T33 Shooting Star, his satnav is a European model... I could go on for a ways, and those are the parts that _looked_ newer." Maru drained the last of his coffee and wearily trundled to get more. It was too early to sleep yet with the sun up, and with how he'd had to work over the last few days, he wasn't entirely sure that if there was another emergency that he would wake up. "He might look a bit more like a racer now, but Blade... I dunno who built him, but he ain't even close to spec on any of the parts he's made of. I'm amazed he works as well as he does. His frame looks like most of it was originally an Air Tractor-502, but his engine is from a type of Cessna among other parts, and there's some parts from a PZL-Meilec Dromader in there too."  
  
"And this is important because...?" It still wasn't making sense to Blade and his patience was running thinner than usual. Like most of the crew he was run down from the fire, and he was only just getting back in the air from his own repairs - which had been stressed by his flight to help Dusty and partially undone by continuing to help against the fire and coordinate from the tower with Patch.  
  
Maru stared tiredly and quietly into his coffee, which only served to worry his friend more. "His engine make..." The mechanic sighed and turned away for a moment. "Blade, I'm not entirely sure he's an adult yet."  
  
"What?" That couldn't be right, sure Dusty was clearly younger than the rest of the air-frames at the air base, but that wasn't particularly hard to do, Blade was getting close to his sixties, Windlifter was in his sixties and so was Cabbie. And while he'd never asked, some of the things that Dipper would say about her old line of work led Blade to believe that she older than all of them.  
  
"I could be wrong," he wasn't usually, "Dusty's mechanic doesn't have his birth certificate in her records, but she told me he's twenty-four this year." Which was still a great deal younger than the rest of them, even the smokejumpers weren't quite that young. "Like I said, I could be wrong. He's still a kid either way." Just one way was a great deal more distressing than the other.  
  
"Well, I'll just have to grill him when he wakes up." When, not if. "Anything else you wanna share?"  
  
Maru rolled his eyes at the dry tone and drove away. "Yeah, get some rest." Not that he was any better, pushing himself like he did for those days and now staying up even longer.  
  
Blade rolled further away, rotor spinning slightly in fidgety irritation. He hadn't like the idea of training someone like Dusty to begin with, he was cocky, tended not to listen and a host of other things... All of which really could be attributed to his age. He grimaced at that thought and silently hoped it wasn't the case. If the little S.E.A.T. really was underage... He'd have a hard time forgiving himself for not noticing it during training.  
  
The rest of the day went by slowly but peacefully, and even better there was no storm over night so when Windlifter was out scouting there were no spot fires to worry about. With the large fire it was going to be a while before tourists were allowed back and even longer before the current fire ban was lifted. As day five of Dusty's repairs edged closer to night the whole crew was now starting to get antsy. Maru was back in the hanger checking up on him, making sure that all the welds had held and nothing else had changed. He tidied a bit absently and rolled by twice before he noticed the bleary eyed blinking from the orange and white plane.  
  
"He's awake!" Maru hollered back to Dipper, eyeing her a moment when he noticed her sag on her landing gear. He tuned out the rest of it to inspect his newly risen charge, poking and prodding and going over everything. "Nothing hurts?"  
  
"Don't think so," Dusty murmured tiredly. He didn't hurt per-say but he felt pretty rough. "How long was I out?"  
  
"Five days." Blade cut in before the mechanic could answer, the rest of the crew closing in around the hanger to get a look at the S.E.A.T. with their own eyes.  
  
"Out ya get." The tug gave him a tap and sent him out into the afternoon sun so the crew could get a better look.  
  
Once the initial relief of seeing their repaired crew-mate, most of them backed off, congratulations being tossed around for earning his certification and the repair to his gearbox. Only Blade lingered and Dusty rolled back nervously. "Sorry about crashing..."  
  
"You saved those R.V.'s lives, and you're okay now. Its a dangerous job." The fire chief didn't stop his stare though and inched forward. Now wasn't exactly the best time, but if he didn't ask now he might not get a proper chance later. "Look, champ, there's something that Maru mentioned to me and I want an honest answer out of you."  
  
"Of course." Dusty frowned, unsure about what it could be about. Maru had said his gearbox was fixed, so there wasn't anything he could think about that the mechanic might notice or bring up to their fire chief.  
  
"How old are you?" It was a simple question, but Blade now that he was really watching, he could see the way the small plane's eyes widened ever so slightly, how he hunched down just a touch on his pontoons and how he bit at his lower lip nervously.  
  
"Haha, what a weird question!" Don't panic, don't panic, it's fine. "I'm twenty-three, I'll be twenty-four in a couple of weeks." Keep calm, voice level, it was _fine_.  
  
"You're lying." It was out and sharper than the AgustaWestland intended, but it didn't stop him from narrowing his eyes and rolling forward to get into the S.E.A.T.'s personal space just a bit more. The kid's voice got higher pitched and there was just that edge to it that he was learning to hear for when the younger either was lying outright or stretching the truth.  
  
"What? No! Of course not! Why would I lie about that? There's no reason to lie what so ever nope siree!" Oh yeah that was convincing, way to go Dusty. He silently cursed himself and rolled back a bit more. He was quickly running out of road and he didn't like the idea of being herded back into the hanger he had only just gotten out of.  
  
"You're a terrible liar." Blade got close enough that they could have bumped noses. "I want the truth Dusty, and I want it now."  
  
It was the name that did it, the fire chief hardly ever called him by his name, usually sticking to the nickname. Cringing as he sunk even lower on his landing gear, he briefly thought about trying to stick to the lie he'd been giving out for years. "I'm fifteen... I'll be sixteen in August." It was a soft admission and he refused to meet the elder flier's eyes.  
  
Blade felt like the tarmac had fallen out from underneath him. When Maru had mentioned the possibility of the S.E.A.T. being underage, he was picturing eighteen or so, maybe seventeen at the youngest not, well, a child. His rotor spun as he struggled to find words. "You're a _child_." It ended up coming out in a horrified whisper.  
  
"I'm not a kid!" It was the defensive cry of exactly what he was claiming not to be and Dusty usually refrained for that exact reason. "I've been racing for nearly a year, you JUST said I earned my certification and before that I was cropdusting for Leadbottom for four years. I am _not_ a child."  
  
"You shouldn't be here. You should be back at PropWash Junction with your parents." The AgustaWestland felt a headache brewing, this was far worse than he'd been envisioning. "You are a child, you aren't even eighteen, never mind twenty-one! What were you thinking??" The rest of what the plane had said caught up with him and the mental math left him even more off kilter. "You've been working since you were _TEN_?!"  
  
"You know what, I don't need your approval!" Dusty yelled and rolled down to the runway, he couldn't stay with Blade hounding him, with major repairs on top of this new stress he just couldn't deal with it. Without radioing to the Tower he zipped up the runway and lifted off before Patch or Blade could shout him down and into his hanger where he should have been resting.  
  
"Augh!" Blade's rotors both spun angrily and the urge to lash out and break something was high. He spun his rotors a little faster, he couldn't let the S.E.A.T. take off like that after such major repairs. If anything gave while the kid was in the air, Maru would rebuild him into a toaster.  
  
"What was that all about?" Cabbie had heard the shouting and rolled out towards the fire chief, who like himself had quite the bad temper when provoked. Though in the helicopter's case, he could usually keep it at a volume that didn't attract others. "Not like you to shout like that."  
  
The fire chief wheeled around, gritting his teeth solidly. He needed to cool down, but he also needed Dusty to get back down on the runway before he overtaxed himself and crashed. "Our 'champ' there is fifteen."  
  
"Ah." Well that certainly explained the volume. He knew that lying was a quick way to get into Blade's bad books and something like that would certainly tug at the helicopter's conscience with how dangerous their work could be.  
  
"Ah? That's all you have to say is ah? He's a kid! An honest to goodness kid!" Blade spun away from the C-119, clearly planning on going after the small plane.  
  
"Yep, and yelling at him ain't going to change that fact." Cabbie rolled his eyes and followed, not letting the other get the room he needed for take-off. "I'll go herd him back to base. You're so mad you're shaking, you sure as heck ain't gonna convince him back by screamin' at him some more."  
  
The logic was sound but it didn't mean the helicopter had to like it. Blade growled lowly, "How are you so calm about this?"  
  
"You know how many underage kids wheedled their way into the army?" Cabbie snorted and radioed Patch for clearance to take off. If he wanted to catch the kid he couldn't dawdle. He really didn't think he'd go too terribly far so soon after so many major repairs, but given the nature of the repairs and current mood, if something went wrong they couldn't be entirely sure that the kid would turn about and return to the air base. "I'll wrangle him back and that'll give you time to calm down."  
  
"You think I should calm down?" His tone was clipped and full of anger looking to be redirected.  
  
"I think yelling isn't gonna change the fact that Dusty's younger than you thought. Doesn't change what he did or is capable of. All that's changed is your perception of him." Patch gave him the all clear and Cabbie slowly trundled over to line up for take off. "Look, Blade. It'll get dealt with, alright? Nothing we can do until he's back here anyway." He waited a moment for an answer and shook his landing gear slightly when he didn't get one. He revved his engines and rolled down the runway, taking off quickly and banking off after their wayward S.E.A.T.  
  
Once he was in the air he had a clearer view and was surprised to see the little spec of orange against the blackened remains of Augerin Canyon. After a crash like that Cabbie had figured he would stay away rather than face what had happened. He banked off to the left and flew a bit higher, it giving him a vantage point to watch the littler plane maneuver with a surprising amount of agility. Little guy looked like he was running a made up obstacle course, which was good and bad. Good that he was doing something with his anger, bad that he was doing something so strenuous after major repairs.  
  
Cabbie sighed softly to himself as he got closer. He'd mostly kept his distance from the little S.E.A.T., mostly because of how Blade had described him. He'd expected a crash, though not from a seized engine, but from cockiness. Now he was regretting it, he didn't really know what to say to lure him back. As he continued to watch though he was beginning to notice how skilled the kid was, he kept low but the turns and moves he made were sharp and almost militaristic in their precision. He waited until Dusty was further in the air, not wanting to risk startling him and causing a crash before he radioed over.  
  
<Crophopper 7 this is McHale 51, do you copy? Over.> He saw the waver and was glad he had waited. If the smaller plane had done that lower to the ground and panicked, it very easily could have ended messily.  
  
Dusty contemplated not answering and darting off away from the elder plane, but it wasn't the C-119 he was mad at, even if the old military plane had been sent out to take him back, that wasn't Cabbie's fault. That, and it would be childish and the ex-cropduster prided himself on acting as mature as he could in most situations. <This is Crophopper 7, I read you, over.> Throttling back he did a lazy loop to line up with the other plane's flight path, which thankfully hadn't curved back to the Air Attack Base just yet. Once they were in line and closer, the wind was light enough that they could talk with out radio.  
  
"Chief send you out after me?" He didn't want to talk but at the same time the slight bit of silence was eating at him, he kept expecting to be yelled at.  
  
"Nah, I volunteered to come check on ya. Doin ok?" The C-119 made sure not to call him kid or even hint that he was out only to bring the wayward plane back to base. That was of course the end goal, but there was a diplomatic way to go about this.  
  
The silence stretched for a moment and Dusty sighed, glancing away from their flight path and over to the larger plane. "I guess. I just... Urgh. I hate this!"  
  
"So what led to all of this?" Cabbie wasn't too sure about how to handle the clearly upset younger plane but the beginning was usually a good place to start for most things.  
  
"You mean aside from Blade being a nosy jerk when he won't even talk about himself?" Dusty bit out angrily, zipping off to the right to do a barrel roll and drift back into the C-119's peripheral.  
  
"Yeah." He stayed steady, keeping an eye on the kid's wings and his flight path. Engine sounded good too, which if something went wrong it would probably be internal rather than a weld giving. Maru was _good_ at what he did.  
  
"My family is from Kansas, we had a farm, lots of corn and a few Tractors and a ranch-hand to help out. Y'know, typical mid-west sort of family." He paused briefly, unsure about continuing. He hadn't actually ever spoken about what led him to Propwash Junction with anyone. But he had started and the rest sort of just tumbled out in a babbled rush. "There was a storm and Mom was out with the helper to try and get the Tractors in. Storm turned and there was a tornado. Neither of them made it. Dad didn't take losing Mom well and decided it was better to cut his engine at five thousand feet than stick around and raise his son once he lost his wife. Don't know about where you're from but the orphanages in Kansas aren't very good to air-frames. I stole some fuel from the farm and flew until I was almost empty... Ended up in Propwash Junction, said I was eighteen and looking for work, no one questioned it. No one ever questioned it. I've been living on my own for six years, I've been working and training and suddenly Blade is looking at me like I can't be trusted to taxi down the runway on my own anymore!"  
  
The words came out angry and sharp at the end, it was clearly distressing for the littler plane to talk about. Though really, if he'd lied about his age so quickly and at such a young age, who would Dusty have talked to about it?  
  
"Sorry to hear about your parents, that's hard no matter your age." Never mind it being traumatic like that. This kid didn't get a break did he? This was quickly getting out of the C-119's very limited field of experience.  
  
"Thanks..." It was a quiet murmured thing, a lot of the anger having drained out from the younger plane from his emotional outburst.  
  
"Look, Dusty... You bein' a kid doesn't change the fact that you did that big race thing, or any of those smaller ones, or that you made it through training and fought the fire." Cabbie turned slowly back towards the Air Base, watching to make sure that the S.E.A.T. was following along. "I know that there's things you're going to argue about with Blade and he's gonna say some things back. Whatever that happens to be, it doesn't change what you've done, alright?"  
  
"If you say so..." It sure didn't feel like that. It felt more like everything was quickly slipping out of his control. What if Blade told Skipper? Or worse, Dottie? What if he wasn't allowed to race anymore? What if his certification was cancelled? PropWash _needed_ a second firefighter and there definitely wasn't time to find another in time to reopen in time for the festival. "I just... what if Blade tells someone? My town needs a second firefighter Cabbie, out runway can't be open without someone to help Mayday."  
  
"Come on, let's get you back to base before you doze off in the sky. We'll get that all figured out on the ground." That would definitely get him a yelling from Maru _and_ Blade if he managed to let the kid fall right out of the sky from exhaustion.  
  
"M'not tired." Dusty muttered, dipping a little as he tried to argue. He did feel exhausted though if he was being honest with himself. The lack of reassurance that things would be okay was really the only thing keeping him going right now, his entire frame felt tense and uneasy.  
  
"Right. If you last longer than ten minutes once we land, I'll eat my tires." Cabbie snorted softly, silently radioing in that they were five minutes out and that.  
  
"Like Coyote?" They were basically back to the base now and Dusty could make out Blade's form at the far end of the runway, almost like he was lurking in wait so he could yell the moment the small plane touched down.  
  
"Haha, Windlifter dragged that ol' thing out? Ahh, that's always a good one." The C-119 chuckled softly as they began to line up for landing. "He's got some crazy stories, and only half of them are nonsense to confuse new recruits, the fun is trying to pick out which is which." Even he wasn't sure on which for a couple of them. "Alright, now you first and I'll follow behind."  
  
"Yessir." Dusty went through the motions, landing smoothly and quickly turning out of the way so the C-119 had the room he needed. He kept rolling, not looking at the AgustaWestland, bee-lining it for his hanger. If he pretended nothing was wrong it would go away, right? Though now that he was on the ground he really was feeling like he could fall asleep any second and he wanted to deal with Blade even less than he had before. His door was quickly shut behind him and he was out before he could even think about being embarrassed for being so tired after such a short flight or how bad this could all go.

**Author's Note:**

> This was born out of the idea of 'What if he actually WAS a kid' and spiraled from there. Kid's do amazing things all the time, from being Olympians to stepping up and acting like parents to younger siblings, so in my mind it isn't too far-fetched a possibility.
> 
> There will eventually be a chapter 2, though I can't say for sure when. I'm currently laid up recovering from surgery, so the muse is extra fickle right now.


End file.
